Just Forget It
by SilentBobina
Summary: When Kenny decides to tutor Butters in the ways of sexuality, he gets more than he bargained for. Bunny, MA TW: Abuse, Rape
1. Temporary Insanity

"If you haven't had a blowjob before senior year, they'll fail you," Cartman insisted. He looked around at the group. Stan confidently smiled. Kyle rolled his eyes. Kenny let out a cheer and Butters stood wide-eyed and conflicted.

"Wh-what's a blow job?" Butters stammered. Cartman laughed and all the other guys looked at him at a loss.

"You put your penis in a chick's mouth dumbass!" Cartman shouted.

"Why would I want that?" Butters asked.

"Because it feels good dude," Stan said.

"And you won't graduate!" Cartman repeated menacingly.

"That's not true fatass!" Kyle protested. Cartman and Kyle walked away arguing relentlessly with Stan trailing behind.

Butters and Kenny remained. Butters eyes were welling up with tears. "Oh, I don't think I'm ready for a girl to touch my penis!" He fretted. Kenny put his hand on his shoulder and tried to comfort the boy. "I'm going to get grounded for sure."

Kenny pulled down his hood and turned to the other boy. Butters startled at the deep blue of his eyes and his shaggy unkempt hair rumpled by his hood. "I know a place that you can get one," Kenny smiled reassuringly.

Outside of TGIF's Butter stuttered "Wh-what are we doing here?"

Kenny grinned mischievously. "Getting you some much needed experience." Instead of heading into the restaurant, Kenny grabbed Butters' hand and dragged him into the alley behind the restaurant.

"We-well nothing is here," Butters observed. Kenny sighed and took out a cigarette. He knew the girls who hung out here well and knew that eventually one of them would appear. Butters gasped, "I can't believe you're smoking Kenny!" Kenny pushed up his hood again to muffle his annoyed sighs.

Butters stood next to the boy anxiously, peering around the corner every so often. After finishing his cigarette, Kenny became impatient. "Well, I guess this will have to do," Kenny stated matter of fact. He had experimented extensively with women. He loved tits and enjoyed eating girls out. However, his sexual appetite never seemed to be satisfied. He assumed he truly was a sex addict and that was fine with him. Kenny looked at the other boy with hesitation, his pale hair and eyes filled with fear, and Kenny's heart softened at his innocence. Kenny moved towards him until his hood was framing Butters' face. He could feel heat and hear the thrumming of Butters' heart. He entwined his hand with one of Butters' and pulled the boy close by the waist. The widening of Butters eyes made his own heart speed up, a sensation he hadn't experienced in a long time. Kenny shook off his hood and leaned down to kiss Butters on the top of his head.

Butters looked into the eyes of a boy mysterious to everyone. There was a glint sparkling deep inside those blue pools that put a lump in Butters throat. He felt warmth and tingling he had never felt as Kenny pulled him close. The soft kiss on his forehead caused him to blush. He had experienced little intimacy not laced with menace, threats, and dominance. As Kenny ran his hands down his back, a stirring in his crotch took him by surprise.

Kenny had never given a blowjob before but he had received enough to know what to do. He ran his arms down Butters back, stopping to play with the edge of his pants. He noticed the swell in Butters' jeans and smiled seductively. Butters' eyes grew glossy with desire. As Kenny lowered to his knees, he pressed his hands up under Butters' shirt then down to grasp his ass beneath his underwear. The sharp inhale of breath that greeted his advance made him chuckle. He undid Butter's pants quickly and his dick popped out as Kenny slid his pants below his sharp hips. A little pearl of pre-cum glittered on his penis.

Butters glanced down in fear and excitement. "ooh," he exclaimed as Kenny removed his pants. The other boy stared up at him for a moment. Butters inhaled sharply at Kenny's wry but sweet smile. He shivered with cold and anticipation. He wasn't sure what was about to happen but his body showed him how much he wanted it.

"Is this alright?" Kenny mumbled, his lips lingering close to Butters' cock. Butters' nodded almost imperceptibly and Kenny felt him trembling. Kenny licked the tip of Butters' dick circling it slowly and softly. He moved one hand to the shaft and massaged it firmly, his fingertips rubbing the smooth porcelain flesh. Butters moaned softly. His innocent gasps sent shivers down Kenny's spine as he slowly pressed his mouth farther along his penis. Kenny began to suck, lightly at first, then with a fury he usually reserved for kissing. His tongue smacked against Butters' shaft as he licked aggressively up and down.

Butters pressed his back harder against the wall to keep him steady. Still his knees slowly turned to jelly and he began to sink to the ground. He felt Kenny's arms grasping behind his legs to support him, slowly migrating to massage his ass. Butters let out a yelp mixed with surprise and pleasure. Kenny paused to look up into his eyes, Butters' penis still resting on his lips. His eyes smiled with a sharp stab of danger and Butters felt heat running from all the places Kenny touched to his cheeks.

Kenny challenged himself by attempting to take Butters entirely in his mouth. He was maybe half an inch to an inch away from engulfing it. Kenny peered up to Butters' face and relaxed his throat muscles. He coughed briefly as Butters eyes bulged from his head. He tried again and bridged the space pressing his lips against the soft place where Butters' balls bulged. He felt them trembling against his lips. He noticed the shaking spread throughout Butters' body and became acutely aware of the other boys gasping, whimpering moans. Kenny focused on the rise and fall of the other boy's voice to gauge the speed and intensity of his sucking. In and out, in and out. He sped up as he noticed Butters' eyes and face beginning to clench tighter.

Butters clenched his eyes and lost himself in fantasies he didn't know he had. He imagined the smoky, well-worn smell of Kenny's hoodie enclosing him in his arms. His head tingled where the boy so chastely kissed him and he wondered how the soft tongue massaging his penis might feel filling his mouth. How would Kenny taste? He wondered. Butters' generally feared the idea of someone touching him the way the other boy did now. He was still afraid, even in the heat of the moment but he also didn't want to stop the pleasure welling up inside him. The thoughts they triggered filled him with a comfort he never expected from vulnerably exposing himself.

Kenny felt a warmth as Butters' dick began to pulsate. A sweet, salty slime filled his mouth. "So that's what I taste like," He thought, his cheeks warming at the thought of his own orgasms. Butters' let out a uncontrolled, extended groan and he opened his eyes. Kenny observed the look of tired satisfaction that filled them and how it softened all the features of his face. Kenny wiped excess cum and spit from his lips.

As Butters opened his eyes, he felt a release unlike any other. The sensation reminded him of his nightly experiences with his creamy goo and he felt as safe as he did in those comforting dreams. He watched as Kenny cleaned up his lips. The shine of the leftover mess that lingered made Butters shiver. He realized his pants hung around his ankles, contributing to the cold he felt. As he pulled up his pants a shout snapped him out of the quiet moment. "Hey! What have I told you kids about messing around back here!" Shouted a rotund man in a garish striped uniform.

Kenny bounced up quickly and grabbed Butters hand as the boy struggled to re-do his belt. Kenny ran, dragging the flustered boy behind him. Butters used the hand that Kenny wasn't pulling to hold up his pants. They rushed down the street until they were heaving and panting but were certain the threat lay far behind them. After regaining his breathe, Kenny began to laugh loudly, unable to stop himself. Butters quickly re-buckled his belt and looked with wide-eyed surprise at the other boy doubled over in laughter. "Ooh-What exactly is funny?" Butters asked, voice tinged with fear.

Kenny clutched Butters to him with an adrenaline rushed impulse. He kissed him hard on the mouth and was greeted with fumbling, unsure lips. Butters settled into the kiss, letting the other boy's strong, practiced tongue slide into his mouth and intertwine with his own. He lost his breathe again quickly and broke away. "That was fun!" Kenny exclaimed. Butters blushed at the realization that Kenny still held him in his arms.

"Y-eeah," Butters stammered, struck by the smile spreading across Kenny's face. Butters buried himself into the orange hoodie, indulging the fantasy he had during the strange experience. Kenny smelled sweeter than Butters had expected. A pungent mix of sweat, smoke, and a hint of mint played at Butters nose, making him light-headed.

Kenny froze for a moment as Butters nuzzled him. He loosened his grip to cradle the boy more gently. His eyes widened with a fear Kenny hadn't known he had. All the girls he ran around with were business only, intimacy free connections. He hadn't cuddled since his middle school days, when cuddling was a prerequisite to pussy. He warmed to the feel of the small, frail boy against him. If he closed his eyes, it was almost like holding a girl.

"What are you queer-mos doing?" A sickeningly sweet voice familiar to them both called from down the street. The boys jumped quickly apart as Cartman, Kyle, and Stan joined them on the sidewalk. Kenny threw up his hood to hide his blush. He needed to play cool, keep it cool. Butters looked straight down at the ground, trying to stare a hole into which he could fall forever. His face was crimson and Kenny felt a stab of guilt. Perhaps he miscalculated in his aggressiveness. It wouldn't surprise him.

Kenny quietly took up his place at the back of the group while Cartman prattled to Butters about the newest plan he intended to recruit him for. "Selling fake phone numbers isn't going to work!" Stan protested.

Kyle fell behind with Kenny and dropped his voice to a whisper. "Where did you guys go? Why did you look like you were going to make-out?" Kyle asked with invested concern.

"Make-out!" Kenny guffawed quietly. He laughed one second too long. Kyle gave him a skeptical look. "I'm not really sure. I might have given Butters a blow-job," Kenny mumbled quickly and lowly, hoping Kyle wouldn't understand him. His hood was his best defense. Kyle looked conflicted and confused.

"Well, do you really think Butters was ready for that? I mean, Cartman was just being an asshole, you didn't have to push it like that," Kyle ranted, working through what he had learned as he went. Kenny sighed, guilt taking him over again. The bright red on Butters' face solidified Kyle's words for Kenny.

"Dude, just forget it, it's done," Kenny pleaded with a sulking tone to his voice.


	2. Maybe You Should Sleep

Later that day Kenny walked home. He heard the usual yelling outside his house. He popped in quickly to see if his brother or sister was home. After confirming that neither of them was in danger, he swiped a spare flask of whisky from his parents stash and walked to Cartman's. He often went there to avoid the tremors in his home but only once he was sure his siblings were safe. Kenny sipped the whiskey getting warm in the chilly mountain air. The comfort that spread through him reminded him of the rush of touching Butters earlier. Just forget it, he told himself, taking a few more swigs. Kenny let himself into Cartman's house and didn't bother to tuck the flask away. "Hello, Kenneth!" Ms. Cartman greeted him cheerfully. "Eric's in his room with Leopold." A lump rose in Kenny's throat. He should have known from Cartman's scheming earlier that day that Butters would be close in his sphere.

"Hello there, would you like to purchase a new cell phone plan?" Kenny heard Butters asking into a telephone as he entered the room. Butters blushed and looked away when he noticed Kenny.

Kenny sighed to himself and took a few more large swigs from the whiskey bottle. His head swam and he collapsed onto Cartman's bed. Fatass was nowhere to be seen. Kenny heard Butters murmuring. He tuned him out but couldn't help giggling to himself as he heard the timid boy say "you are breaking my balls," mechanically.

Butters hung up and noticed Kenny lounging back on Eric's bed. He had lowered his jumpsuit and his ratty wife-beater rose to show his flat stomach and the curve of his hips. His eyes were clenched tightly shut and a strong blush played at his cheeks. Butters tried not to stare, his body humming with embarrassment.

"Hi Kinny!" Cartman's voice broke through both the boy's thoughts. Kenny rose onto his elbows and nodded to the boy. "You're drunk again, aren't you!" Cartman screeched. Kenny nodded and giggled, gloss covering his eyes. "You know the rules! You have to share," Cartman whined. Kenny gladly turned over the flask. He should probably slow down anyway. A feeling of bile built up in his stomach.

"Kenny," Butters whispered. Kenny pierced him with foggy eyes. "Why do you do that? Drink, I mean."

Kenny gathered his drunken thoughts but couldn't bring words to his lips. That happened often to him, so he usually just didn't speak. It was worse when he was drunk. Cartman filled the void cackling, "Because it's FUN Butters!" He shoved the flask in Butters face. "You're gonna try some," he demanded. Kenny didn't like the edge of menace in Cartman's voice. He chose to ignore the proceedings floating into his drunken stupor.

He fell asleep, only waking occasionally to the sound of Butters and Cartman. What he heard seemed like a nightmare.

_"Drink more!" Cartman screeched; Butters' shadow already slumped against the wall._

_Butters face next to his. Kenny started, seeing the drool dripping from his passed out mouth plastered to the pillow. _

_Cartman's hulking shadow lurking above the boy and loud thumps hitting Butters' body. _

Kenny woke with a headache, entwined with Butters and Cartman. Every part of him hurt from a wicked hangover and the twisted knots from sleeping in a bed with two other people. He wasn't sure how much of his memory was a dream. He noticed Butters' shirt rising and blushed, shaking off the nerves that possessed him last night. He stared for a moment. As he pried his lingering eyes away, he noticed some dark spots on Butters hips but, just as quickly, Butters stirred, his shirt shifting down over his body. Kenny must have imagined it, he thought.

As Butters sat up and rubbed his eyes, he let out a groan. Butters felt pain everywhere, stabbing him unexpectedly and concentrated in his head. Kenny went to the bathroom to grab Butters and himself some water. He sat on the bed next to Butters smiling sweetly. "Thank you, Kenny," Butters said graciously. He rested his head on Kenny's shoulder which made him tense up for a moment, before he let his own head rest onto Butters'.

Later that day at lunch, Kenny sat more stoic than usual. Cartman bragged about some girl he laid the night before and Kenny's stomach did flips. Butters looked as bad as Kenny felt. "Are you alright Butters?" He heard Kyle ask next to him.

"Yeah dude you look like you got hit by a car or something," Stan seconded his sentiments. Kenny fixated on the grimace covering Butters pale face and his sunken eyes. He hoped the alcohol was all that was affecting him.

"Well I think I might have indulged in alcohol last night," Butters admitted, his eyes flashing up to Kenny's. "And my ass hurts a little, well really, everything hurts a little." Kenny closed his eyes to press the images from the night before out of his head. He had to be imagining things, he reassured himself.

Butters stared at Kenny wondering what he remembered. Butters didn't remember much except for Eric's incessant pressure for him to drink more and the large boy pressing himself against him. Maybe Butters shouldn't have told Eric about what happened with Kenny. He thought the boy would be proud that he got a blowjob as he had insisted. Instead, Eric's face immediately darkened and he pushed Butters down roughly, "Oh really? I always knew you were a fag!" He shouted into Butters' face. Butters was used to this treatment from Eric, still he hadn't expected the reaction which shook him. Butters felt relief when Kenny showed up the night before, until the alcohol came out.

After lunch, Kenny went to the bathroom and snuck a few nips of Whiskey. He tried to stop thinking about his nightmarish memories and the bruises he noticed on Butters that morning. Kyle caught him and he braced himself for the lecture. He pulled the strings of his hoodie tighter and tried to dodge out of the bathroom but Kyle had him cornered. "What are you doing?" He asked suspiciously, a twinge of anger inflecting his voice. Kenny shrugged and moved to pass Kyle. "No!" Kyle insisted firmly. "What is going on? You give Butters a blowjob—" Kenny glared at Kyle and hushed him. Kyle lowered his voice to a growl. "All of a sudden he's drinking and you're drinking during school. What happened last night?"

Kenny sighed. He considered telling Kyle what he had seen for a moment. Ultimately, he worried that Kyle would blow up and attack Cartman. He truly didn't want to see anything bad happen to Butters, or, FUCK, Cartman for that matter, over one of his stupid dreams and some overthinking. "I honestly don't remember," he lied. His voice caught and he saw Kyle's eyes flash with knowing. "I blacked out," he tried to cover quickly. Kyle paused a moment, like he wanted to say something else, but thankfully he just backed away from the door.

"Ok, but I'm here if you remember anything," He offered. Kenny nodded and quickly ducked behind Kyle towards class.

All through class Butters shifted in his seat uncomfortably. He hurt so much from the alcohol and couldn't find any good way to cope with the random aches he felt. The most alarming pain occurred from his thighs to his butt. He figured he must have pulled something cramping himself into the bed with the other boys. He glanced at Kenny occasionally, his eyes lingering a moment longer each time. He blushed when the boy caught him staring. Despite the black hole where last night should have been, the previous afternoon appeared vividly sharp in Butters' mind. He wished he could see more of Kenny's face, but it lay enclosed tightly in his hoodie. He imagined the boy's sharp blue eyes and tousled hair. More than anything he felt the heat of Kenny's lips hovering over his own before they pulled away. He imagined the boys strong, sure hands pulling him close. "Butters—Butters!" Mr. Garrison shouted into his daydream. Butters stared dimly to the front of the room. Mr. Garrison noted his ghostly pale face and the empty look in his eyes. "Do you need to go to the nurse?" He asked. Butters simply shook his head.

Kenny slipped down into his street drunkenly. His hood shielded his concerned, focused stare towards Butters. He felt Kyle's keen eyes on him and knew that he noticed the exchange between the two of them. Cartman also seemed to smirk as Butters blushed and looked away from Kenny. Mr. Garrison looked unconvinced by Butters' response. "Kenny, walk him down to the nurses for a nap," He stated. Kenny struggled to stand stable but once he found his grounding he tugged on Butters' shirt, hoping the touch didn't draw too much attention.

It wasn't a big deal, just forget it, Kenny reminded himself as the boys walked awkwardly in silence. They glanced at each other, both too anxious to speak. Eventually Butters stopped dead. Kenny turned towards him and removed his hoodie. Butters held back a gasp as his wish to see the boy's face was fulfilled. "What's wrong?" Kenny asked. Butters noticed how soft his eyes were, emanating compassion he had always taken for granted.

Butters hesitated. His embarrassment shone from his red face. "Well… I told Eric." He whispered.

Kenny's eyes widened with surprise. "About what exactly?" he asked.

"About yesterday, you know, what you—we did." Butters looked into Kenny's blue eyes for a hint of anger that wasn't there. Instead, he found an increasingly perplexed look of concern.

Butters' confession explained a lot to Kenny. Cartman was jealous, he concluded preemptively. He shook off the notion. Best make sure before his imagination ran away again. His stomach turned as he prompted Butters. "Has anything like that ever happened with Cartman?" He tried to sound cool but anxiety laced his question with poisonous concern. He had betrayed his stoicism, yet again.

"No!" Butters exclaimed. "He pushes me around sometimes sure but he's never done anything like _that_." Butters blushed.

Kenny nodded and grabbed the boy's hand redirecting them to the nurse's office. He felt reassured that his shadowy thoughts were false; perhaps even a manifestation of his own guilt. He had taken Kyle's admonition to heart. That must be all.

Kenny and the nurse had an understanding. He frequently visited to sleep off his alcohol induced headaches. The problems in Kenny's family were common knowledge in the small, gossipy town of South Park. "Hi Kenneth!" The nurse said sweetly. "Who is your friend?"

"This is Butters, and he needs to lie down for a while. Well, we both do," He stated. She pointed towards the room reserved for napping students with a smile and returned to her work. Kenny loved how short and sweet their interactions were.

Kenny helped Butters settle into the bed. He grimaced with pain. He threw a grateful look to Kenny and lay down. Kenny stroked Butters' hair and held his gaze for a long moment. Butters felt the world blur at the gesture.

What was that? Kenny asked himself as he rushed to the other side of the room and lay down on the other bed. He felt that warm connection welling up in his chest again. Butters fell asleep quickly but Kenny watched the boy for a while. He noticed the peaceful look that possessed his face in sleep. The drowsy calm on his face only exacerbated the innocence that characterized his every waking moment. An innocence I tainted, Kenny thought. Yet something sharp struck him in his chest, like the drag of a cigarette. This was only the beginning, he thought. That nerve-wracking thought followed him to sleep.


	3. Not a Ghost or a Stranger

Kenny's mind spun through the ether that he visited in his dreams. The nightmarish curl of memories that possessed him in his sleep disoriented the coherence of any narrative logic that dreams might offer. He flashed to many different traumas each night. He would hear his parents yelling and see his siblings' terrified faces. A sudden jump to the moment of his continual re-births which pulled him backwards to the pain of his many deaths. He would cringe, hit by a car, impaled on a light pole, electrocuted. He would float above his body into the imaginary dreamspace that all these fearsome experiences created. Into the ether he dove, grasping for rare moments of pleasure. He felt the warmth of sex which often came to him through this troublesome array. He felt hands, lips, hips, pleasure running through him. A face rose to kiss him and he saw Butters smiling back at him. His mind jerked him sharply to visions of Cartman's shadow hovering over the innocent boy. He noticed tears gathering at the corners of Butters' eyes and the bed shaking. He looked up to see Cartman thrusting violently. He reached his hand out to Butters', trying to reclaim the warmth. He clutched the boy's hand—

"Hey Kenny." Kenny shot up and banged his head into Butters'. A dream, only a dream, like the tangle of all of his dreams. Yet here stood the boy from his dream rubbing his forehead in pain.

"Sorry," Kenny said sleepily, stretching and yawning.

"It's ok," Butters smiled, even as Kenny saw a red bump forming on his forehead, just another bruise for the already suffering boy. "We have to hurry though, the last bell just rang." Kenny nodded and rushed with the other boy to their lockers, his head spinning from booze and bad dreams.

"Hey fags!" Cartman shouted, "you're gonna miss the bus!" Both boys looked at each other uncertainly before running to the bus behind Cartman.

Later that day, Kenny crashed Stan and Kyle's study session. He lay lazily on the couch still nursing an explosive headache. He wondered if it was from the alcohol or guilt. Stan and Kyle mostly ignored him, engrossed in their work and each other. Kenny let out a large sigh. "Do you know why Butters isn't here?" He asked hesitantly, failing to mask his abnormal concern.

Kyle looked over his shoulder and stared Kenny down with hard, angry eyes. "He's probably grounded because of YOU," he accused. Stan leaned in and whispered something to Kyle that made his eyes light up. They quietly snickered together. Something hit Kenny then. Stan. Knew. too. That meant everyone knew. He pushed his hood down over his eyes, blocking out the light and his embarrassment.

"I know," Kenny mumbled.

Kyle was struck by Kenny's low tone. He hadn't seen the boy take something so hard in a long time. He broke away from his homework. "Kenny, can I ask you something?" Kenny sat up on his elbows. "Do you have feelings for Butters?" Kenny froze. He hadn't been able think straight since he had pushed that door open. Maybe it was just the alcohol.

Just forget it, he thought. "No," He replied firmly. Kyle raised his eyebrows skeptically. "I'm just worried about him," Kenny assured him.

Kyle heard the compassion in Kenny's urgent voice. He still suspected something had happened but he wasn't sure what. "Well, why don't you go talk to him?" Kyle suggested, gauging Kenny's reaction. Kenny simply collapsed back onto the couch and enclosed his face in his hoodie. Kyle relented and went back to his work. He hoped that some of his words would stick.

Kenny considered Kyle's suggestion. Just thinking about Butters excited strange warmth and fluttering in his chest, like anxiety and something he couldn't quite place. It had to be guilt. Kenny had poisoned his most innocent friend and he felt an acutely sharp ache at the thought. So why do I want to be beside him? He thought suddenly. He was distracted from his angst by Kyle and Stan murmuring in their own little world. Maybe what I feel is friendship, he mused. He had always envied what Kyle and Stan shared. Maybe he could share that with Butters.

Kyle and Stan seemed content to share their lives. Everyone else simply floated about them like planets in the orbit of their gravity. Stan was still with Wendy and everyone joked that Kyle was married to his work. Yet Stan still spent most of his time with Kyle. He said Wendy was too busy with student government and prom committee to see him very often. Kenny wondered if anything like what happened with Butters happened between them. Kyle giggled lightly and shoved Stan playfully. Kenny's stomach filled with doubt piling upon doubt. He doubted his memories of the night before, his feelings about Butters, and now he even doubted the relationship between two of his closest friends. He wondered if this pile of worries said more about him or his friends.

After eating dinner at Kyle's, like he did so many nights, Kenny trampled through the snowy streets to Butters' house. He knocked on the door and was greeted by Butters' permanently grouchy father. "I already told you boys, Butters can't talk, he's grounded," Mr. Scotch snapped, slamming the door in Kenny's face. Kenny stood on the doorstep for a moment, considering the man's words. Cartman must have stopped by earlier. Just the thought made him sick. Kenny walked up and down Butters' block smoking cigarettes slowly. The smoke cut through his teeth and he played with the ghostly shapes using his tongue. He imagined the feel of a kiss, of Butters' kiss. He shook off the thought, furiously gunning down the rest of the pack.

After dark, he snuck around the house to Butters' window. He threw a rock and Butters' pale, scared face rose above the frame. He smiled when he recognized the bright orange shadow below him. He had wanted to see Kenny since that afternoon. He felt things hanging unfinished between them like clouds gathering before a storm. He remembered the words that Kenny mumbled in his sleep before Butters shook him gently awake. "Cartman—no—he's not yours—stop." The moment of insecurity had taken Butters by surprise. He knew Kenny wouldn't remember his sleeping mumbles but he wondered if the boy knew something, anything about the black hole of the previous night. Butters waved down to him, signaling for him to wait below.

Kenny smiled, unexpectedly thrilled by Butters' ebullient enthusiasm. The boy returned with a rope ladder that he lowered quietly. Kenny felt a jolt of anger as he wondered if Cartman had used the ladder before. He climbed the ladder quietly. He fell into Butters' room with a soft thud and lay on the floor breathing heavily. Butters leaned down through the dark and placed a cautious finger on Kenny's lips to hush him. Kenny mischievously considered pulling the finger into his mouth but restrained himself to an almost imperceptible kiss. He sat up and pulled Butters down to his level. "Are you alright?" Kenny whispered full of fear.

A quizzical look crossed Butters' face, "I'm always grounded. You know that."

Kenny pulled down his hood and stared into Butters' eyes. The confusion on his face struck Kenny as one of the cutest things he had ever seen. He pulled the boy into a hug. A totally platonic hug, he told himself. Still a swelling of warmth rose inside him and he hesitated to let go. "I was just worried that Cartman—" He trailed off.

Butters' eyes glazed at the mention of Cartman's name. He looked away from Kenny, shifting to press the boy's arms down around his waist. He blushed as he realized he had draped himself into his lap. A heavy cloud of smoke emanated from Kenny and the smell made him dizzy. He enjoyed the moment before he asked one of the many questions gathering in his mind since the previous afternoon. "What do you remember about last night?" He asked, an edge of desperation cutting through his words.

Kenny pulled the boy closer. His hoodie and Butters' shirt rose until a slight slip of their skin touched. Kenny got goose bumps. "I'm not sure," he admitted. He considered explaining his ethereal dreamworld but thought better of it. Instead he settled for saying, "I know it wasn't good." The sweet smell of Butters' hair filled his nose, fighting against the stench of cigarettes, alcohol, and dirty sweat that usually followed him. He sighed to inhale the smell deeper and moved to bury his face into the pale blonde locks. He hoped the boy wouldn't notice.

Butters felt Kenny's hot breath on his neck and gulped. He tried to ignore the hardening in his pants. "I know, I can feel that," Butters grimaced. His father's beating had only made his bruises darker and he wasn't sure he could sit on the hard seats at school another day. He felt Kenny run his hand down his arm and lace their fingers together.

They sat there in comfortable silence for a while, "I'm not going to drink again for a while," Kenny whispered. The statement tasted like a lie but he had seen something ugly through the whiskey the night before. He thought about his family and the habits he had picked up to avoid them, the same habits he repudiated in them. The exhaustion of his hypocrisy sat upon his chest. The warm boy next to him stood as a walking testament to the consequences.

"Me neither," Butters fretted.

The fear lining Butters' voice sparked Kenny to turn the boy's face towards his own. A dangerous promise lingered on his lips. Fuck it, he had already made one promise he couldn't keep that night, what was another? "Hey," Butters eyes sparkled with expectation as Kenny stroked his cheek, "If you ever need help, you can find me. I don't care when or what or where. I promise I'll be there for you."

Butters' held his breath waiting for a kiss. He closed his eyes and leaned forward but in a flash Kenny disappeared.

Kenny hurried home, afraid of what he might find. He was always afraid of going home but he was even more afraid of not going home. Sure enough, as Kenny approached his block, he noticed the familiar lights flashing blue and red against the walls of his neighbor's houses, and his stomach sank. He rushed into the yard just in time to see the police grappling with his father to take his rifle from him. Oh shit! Kenny had time to think before he saw the blood run down his face and he fell into the darkness.


	4. And Any Day Now I'll Explode

Kenny's POV

The light blinded Kenny in a combination of pain and clarity. No matter how many times he returned he felt the same sensation, too much of everything intruding on his neural pathways in one fell swoop. He awoke in a hospital bed. He didn't see his parents or his friends, for that matter, but his sister huddled in the corner asleep. He noticed the charcoal stain of dusk outside his window and wondered how long he had been dead this time. Karen stirred as the beeping on Kenny's machines intensified and a nurse rushed in. The shock on the nurse's face no longer surprised Kenny. After the nurse took his vitals and placed some medication in his IV, Karen approached him. He found his hoodie placed lovingly on the chair beside his bed. He grabbed it and quickly tucked himself inside.

Karen sighed. Her eyes shone with a mix of relief and anger Kenny was familiar with by now. Everyone was always angry when he came back. Sometimes they just called him lazy, conveniently editing out the trauma of his death. Sometimes they accused him of much worse and he felt certain this would be one of those instances. "Where the fuck were you?!" Karen screeched after giving her brother a hug. Kenny looked away blushing and holding back tears. He struggled to separate the warmth he felt with Butters from the guilt he felt over his siblings. Karen began to sob quietly.

Kenny pulled her up onto his bed and put his arm around her. "I know, I should have been there," Kenny mumbled. At least he had borne what he hoped was the brunt of the damage, a hole in the head. Then he noticed the bruises on his sister's wrists.

"My guardian angel didn't even come," Karen whispered. She maintained her faith in Mysterion long after Kenny ditched the costume and identity. He had never revealed the truth to her. Believing in something had to be better than believing in nothing, he thought. "They were shouting and mom had a knife and dad got out his gun. I tried to get in the middle to stop them. I tried to do what I know you would have done." Kenny's heart raced at the thought. He was special. His body allowed him to intervene but Karen was fragile, mortal. "Mom grabbed me by the arm and threw me across the room, so I called the cops," She concluded.

"Where are they now?" Kenny asked, exhausted.

"They are in rehab," Karen responded. Kenny knew what that meant, AA and house arrest. How else to best protect the kids? He scoffed to himself. If only the police learned to at least separate his parents, maybe one of them could recover. He felt dizzy with the hope and reminded himself as he always did not to expect anything. He had taught himself composure but found that hope destabilized it every time.

At that moment, Butters entered the room with a relieved joy plastering his face. Speaking of hope, Kenny thought. "Oh Kenny! I was so worried about you!" Butters squeaked. Kenny smiled at his sweetness but quickly hid the look. Butters threw his arms around Kenny without abandon and Kenny tensed, watching his sister's reaction. She only smiled.

"Butters stayed with me all night," Karen revealed. Kenny realized then that the sun was rising, not setting. He balked at the ironic concurrence of hope and sunlight.

Kenny stopped by his house to grab his stuff before school. Butters waited outside, trying to make sure Kenny was ok. Kenny's parents lay on the couch drugged out on the valium the cops had dosed them with to keep them calm. Institutionalized enabling, he grumbled to himself. His mom looked up vaguely. "Kenny, is that you?" He just nodded, slipped quietly into his room and back out again.

He paused to consider the ankle monitors on his parents. "Do you think you'll do it this time?" Kenny growled.

His mom looked up to him, dead eyes watering. "We will, we always try but this time we will," She insisted, tears lightly falling down her face.

Kenny gritted his teeth in what he hoped looked like a smile and left. Another set of empty promises like the ones that rolled off of his own tongue the night before. He almost plowed through Butters on the way out of his house.

"Are you ok Kenny?" Butters asked as Kenny stalked ahead of him in silence.

Kenny turned on him swiftly, anger blazing in his eyes. "My parents were arrested AGAIN! I spent the night in the HOSPITAL! I let my little sister get hurt-" he caught himself, realizing he had not meant to reveal the last detail. His transgressions were his burden to bear alone. Butters should have fled. The anger swelled in Kenny's chest, inherited anger. Genetic predisposition had really fucked him, he thought bitterly.

Instead, Butters rushed to catch up to Kenny and slipped their hands together. He gave Kenny's hand a light squeeze. "You can't always save everyone," He said gently.

Kenny sat stewing in anger and embarrassment all day. Like always, whispers about his family followed him down the halls reignited by another scandal. Small town bullshit, he fumed. He heard people talking about his sister's bruises and the flames grew in his chest. He was about to explode, maybe even literally. It wouldn't be the first time, he thought.

His friends knew not to say anything about the incident, yet any time something happened like this they grew eerily quiet. They accommodated him through space and awkwardly sparse conversation. Everyone except for Cartman, that is.

At lunch, while everyone else played with their food and tried to talk about the mundane, Cartman spewed shit. "Yeah Kahl, well only faggy Jews still play Farmville! Everyone knows Candy Crush is the new thing!" He shouted.

Kyle rolled his eyes and said flatly, "Cartman, I don't give a fuck what's popular, just water my damn plants or leave me alone." His face darkened.

"Stan, tell Kahl I'm right! You know, you've been playing it!" Cartman insisted. Butters kept glancing at Kenny hesitantly, worry wrinkling his eyes. All the awkward pauses and flat voices incited Kenny's anger to grow.

"Cartman, it really isn't important dude," Stan responded. Kenny noticed Stan lightly tilt his head in his direction.

Burning, burning.

"Oh Fuck Kenny!" shouted Cartman. The whole lunch room stared at the group of friends now. "He probably didn't even see anything because he was probably out fucking his fag boyfriend—" Kenny leaped across the table sprawling lunches everywhere.

Kaboom!

Kenny pummeled Cartman, only vaguely aware of the splatter of blood from Cartman's face on his own. "Kenny! You fucking asshole!" Cartman shouted through the punches. All he could do was hold off the boy with his pathetically weak, chubby arms.

Eventually, Kenny felt Kyle and Stan pulling him off of the boy. "Dude, dude, calm down Kenny!" Kyle exclaimed. As Kyle struggled to pull the boy into the hallway, Kenny's eyes darted around the cafeteria searching for Butters. He was nowhere to be seen and Kenny felt grateful. He stared down at the blood covering his knuckles. The fire died and he felt satisfied choking down the ash. "Let me take you to my house and get you cleaned up," Kyle begged. Kenny shook his head no but found himself trailing Kyle to his car regardless.

Kenny sat in Kyle's shower. He felt the warmth running over him like a cocoon. The feeling brought back the warmth of Butters sprawled against his chest and he quickly stood to clean himself up. His raw fists were swelling up. He took extra care to soap them up gently. When he got out of the shower, he found the rubbing alcohol in Kyle's cabinet. He considered taking a swig but the smile on Butters face returned to his mind. He had to break the cycle. He had to keep his promise. Instead of drinking, he doused his ragged fists in the alcohol relishing the stinging pain of the foaming liquid. He let it linger as the bubbles slowly popped and the alcohol slipped deeper into the rough patches of skin. He killed time in Kyle's bathroom, delaying the unpleasant lecture or heart to heart he knew surely awaited him. He stared at himself in the mirror. His eyes circled with darkness. His hair lay flat and grimy despite his shower. His mouth solidified into a hard line that matched his cold blue eyes. Nothing to love here, he thought.

He slowly dressed himself in his orange armor. He pulled his hoodie tight. Perhaps Kyle would let this go, he hoped, though he knew that was about as likely as his parents recovering this time. He walked into Kyle's bedroom where the boy studied quietly. He looked up with relief at the sight of Kenny cleaned up.

Kyle gestured towards the bed and Kenny threw himself down, propping himself on one arm. Kyle sat straight and tense on the edge of the bed. He looked away from Kenny for a long moment. Kenny held his breath waiting for his inevitable admonition but it didn't come. Instead, Kyle gently grasped one of Kenny's damaged fists and stared at the raw, flaking layers. "Kenny, I'm really worried about you," He whispered simply.

Kenny took back his hand and lay on his back pushing his hands safely under his head. He couldn't handle any more scrutiny but somehow he felt that Kyle knew that. Kyle twisted to look at Kenny. Kenny gathered his thoughts for a moment then decided to ask the question that filled him with so much doubt the previous afternoon. "You and Stan, you're just really good friends right? I mean, if I had something like that with Butters that wouldn't mean…" He paused, looking to Kyle for reassurance.

Instead, Kyle looked away. "I'm not sure what we are," he whispered.

"What do you mean?" Kenny asked his heart beating fast and hard. The ground slipped out from underneath him and every touch with Butters flashed vividly through his head.

Kyle inhaled deeply, like he was preparing to release a windstorm. "It's like this-"

A/N: Thank you all for the kind reviews! I am very into this story so I hope to keep updating regularly :) The next Chapter is going to be primarily from Kyle's POV but this will not devolve into a Style fic, it serves a purpose.


	5. Put Your Hands Where I Can See Them

It all happened about six months ago. In his senior year, Stan began to drink heavily. He and Kenny goofed off frequently and Kyle's frustration grew with every episode. They would stumble to his house in the middle of the night and Kyle would sneak them up to his room to help them sleep it off. Sometimes one of the boys would throw up. Kyle gritted his teeth and cleaned up everything, spraying febreeze to hide the smell. He preferred for them to stay at his house over Cartman's. He knew that fatass wouldn't do anything to help either boy.

One night Stan showed up alone. Kyle let him in as usual, hushing him as he fell up the stairs loudly. Stan lay on Kyle's bed mumbling about his evening. "Seriously Kyle, Kenny and I went cow tipping those huge ass cows—well we're the ones who fell over!" Stan broke out in a fit of giggles and stopped talking. Kyle remembered setting cow pies on fire when there were younger. He sighed quietly, things were simpler then. His friends weren't imploding before his eyes. Stan closed his eyes, settling in.

Kyle curled up next to him. The boys slept together often on these nights. The closeness comforted him, until he detected the smell. "Dude, you need to change your clothes, you smell like shit. I don't want that in my bed," Kyle insisted.

Stan rolled onto his elbow. The glimmer of alcohol made his cobalt eyes pop and Kyle's stomach turned. "So lend me some clothes," he answered. "But you might have to help me a little," Stan rose uneasily to his feet. Kyle retrieved some extra pajamas. He paused at the bathroom door, waiting for Stan to enter. Stan slumped onto the toilet. Kyle lingered outside of the door, a blush creeping up his face. He hadn't seen Stan naked since they were kids, let alone undressed him. He gathered his breath. He won't remember anyway, he thought.

Stan was like a child. He lifted his arms lazily and Kyle stripped off his blue t-shirt. Stan's broad chest rippled. Kyle never imagined his body as so muscular. But he had imagined it, he realized. His throat closed with the thought. The hard part still loomed ahead of him. Kyle noted the dirt and shit stains layering Stan's jeans. His nose crinkled. "You're cute when you're grossed out," Stan commented seemingly out of nowhere. Kyle looked up into his face then. He noticed Stan had significantly sobered, his face soft but serious. Kyle struggled to breathe as he leaned in to undo Stan's belt. Instead of leaning back or helping him out, Stan simply moved in closer, his dark silky hair brushing Kyle's shoulder. Kyle's chest began to ache. He undid the buttons, fumbling a bit as Stan's lips grazed his collar bone. Was he doing this on purpose? He asked himself.

Kyle happily pulled back to the floor letting out a ragged sigh. He slipped the jeans off of Stan's hips quickly. He examined Stan's boxers and groaned inwardly when he saw a line of brown caking the edge of them. "Um dude, you need to change your boxers too," Kyle blushed. He left the room and returned with another pair. "I'll just turn around," he said awkwardly. Stan looked confoundedly at the boxers. Kyle's heart pounded as he turned around. After a long moment, a crash caused Kyle to whip back towards Stan. He sprawled on the floor only half inside the boxers.

Kyle stood frozen, staring at Stan's ass. Stan looked up in annoyance. "Dude! Help me out!" He whined. Kyle shook his head. He hesitated and then leaned down to pick Stan up off the floor. He felt thankful that Stan lifted the boxers as he rose. Kyle finished dressing Stan, slipping his legs into the pajamas one by one. He grabbed both of Stan's hands and pulled him up. The heat returned to his face as Stan draped himself over Kyle's shoulder. "You're the best Kyle," Stan whispered into the nook of his neck. The hair on the back of Kyle's neck rose and he tingled. "You're my super best friend," Stan slurred.

Kyle sighed as he lowered the boy onto the bed. He waited for Stan to disentangle himself but instead, he pulled Kyle onto his chest. Kyle began to breathe heavily. He felt anxious but he wasn't sure why. They did this all the time. Relax, he told himself. Stan kissed his cheek softly then. Kyle's mind flew into overdrive. He loved Stan. The thought blindsided him like a truck. He tilted his head to stare into the face of his best friend. He judged Stan's level of intoxication. The boy seemed almost sober. "Do you want some water?" He asked quietly. Stan shook his head and tightened his grip on Kyle's shoulders. He leaned down and kissed Kyle hard on the mouth, his tongue sloppy with passion. Kyle pressed him back. "What are you doing?" he demanded.

Stan paused. He let Kyle slip away. He turned onto his side facing him. "Look, Wendy and I, we're not really together anymore," he confessed. Kyle had suspected as much for a while. Recently Stan's drinking had become incessant and Wendy was nowhere to be found. Stan grimaced, his face torn and his eyes fallen.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Kyle pried.

"I haven't told anyone" Stan sighed. "Not even myself, I guess." He looked at Kyle and his grimace twisted into a smile. "For a while, I thought I could get her back, but then…" He trailed off.

Kyle waited for Stan to continue. Instead, his eyes burned with a sudden desire and Stan pressed himself against Kyle again kissing him roughly. Kyle melted into Stan and returned his embrace. He let his tongue trace Stan's lips and the boy let out a muffled moan. Kyle felt himself grow hard against Stan's strong leg. He let out small whimpers as Stan moved down his neck, biting him softly between light, wet kisses. After a while, both boys fell asleep staring into each other's eyes.

In the morning, Stan was gone. Kyle never found out what Stan had been about to say and he wasn't even sure what he remembered. Yet, things had been different between them, easier. They giggled and flirted and cuddled more or maybe that was all just in Kyle's head. He and Stan had always been inseparable and physically close, perhaps one night didn't mean anything.

Kenny listened intently, watching Kyle's emotions. They shifted clearly on his face from confusion to joy and back to confusion. Kenny admired Kyle's openness. He stifled, shut down, denied. Kyle emoted, expressed, connected. All of these messy emotions scared Kenny. He stayed silent for a long moment. Finally, Kenny sighed, "It sounds like you're just as confused as I am."

Kyle nodded while looking down at his hands. Kenny held his breathe. He grabbed Kyle by the shoulder and squeezed gently. Kyle looked up with a small smile. "So you and Butters?" He waited for a response but Kenny couldn't form words. Yet again, he grasped at air. "You told me, and I'm sorry I reacted the way I did. I think I was projecting a little bit."

Kenny shook his head. "You were right, Butters wasn't ready for that." His voice seeped with guilt. "I feel responsible…" Kenny left the thought unfinished.

Kyle noticed his friend staring into space. "You're not talking about the blowjob anymore are you?" Kyle pressed.

"I'm remembering things," Kenny said quickly, "from the other night," he strained to express the darkness of his dreams with words. He wondered if Kyle would understand or dismiss his dreams.

Kyle waited patiently for his taciturn friend to speak. After a long moment, he asked, "What happened to Butters?" Kenny was always struck by Kyle's perceptiveness in these moments; maybe he could explain himself.

"I think Cartman—" He struggled. "I think he hurt Butters." Kenny looked into Kyle's face and the anger he had anticipated sparked instantly into a fire burning his hazel eyes. "It might have been a dream," he rushed to qualify his statement and calm his friend.

Kyle seemed calmer but he growled, "That wouldn't surprise me at all. Why do you think it's a dream?"

"I was drunk," Kenny reminded him. "I have weird dreams when I'm drunk and I felt really shitty about what happened earlier that day."

"But you SAW how fucked up Butters was the next day!" Kyle protested. Kenny looked down in shame and nodded. "Look, if you really care about him you need to tell him whatever you remember," Kyle insisted.

Kenny hated it when Kyle transformed into a stern mother. It never helped that he was usually right. "I don't know what I feel for Butters," Kenny whispered weakly.

"Well he's you're friend, isn't he?" Kyle chided.

"I want him to be." Kenny stared into Kyle's eyes. Kyle felt the hardness and determination in his friend's eyes and words.

Kyle smiled then, a sly, knowing smile. "Just tell him," Kyle insisted. He left it up to Kenny's imagination exactly what he should tell Butters.

After Kenny left, Kyle considered the advice he had given his friend. It dawned on him that he rarely took his own advice and in this case, there may be good reason to. He sighed. He and Stan were supposed to study anyway; maybe he could breach the topic smoothly.

When Kyle got to Stan's house, he heard Randy shouting in the background into his cell phone. "This plan was supposed to be cheaper!" He paced back and forth turning red with anger. "What do you mean you don't know what I'm talking about?! I have been sending you checks every month for the 'reduced option plan'!"

Stan came down the stairs rolling his eyes at his father and dragging Kyle past him quickly. "Dude, I don't know why he's always freaking out about something," Stan complained. He sat on his bed and smiled eagerly at Kyle. His heart skipped a beat. Stan gathered his work together and sat on the edge of his bed. "So I was thinking we could start with geometry, I mean I know you're in calculus but I'm really lost—"

"Stan," Kyle cut him off quietly. Stan's brow furrowed as he looked down at his friend.

"What's wrong?" He asked seriously.

Kyle wasn't sure where to start. Feelings stirred and whirled, all sitting in his gut. Should he confess or just bring up that night? He settled for reminding Stan of what he HAD said. "So, you know how you're not with Wendy anymore."

Stan's face tightened. "Yeah," he answered cautiously.

Kyle's stomach settled a bit. At least he remembered that much, he thought. "Well, you never told me why you stopped trying to get her back," He prompted. Maybe he could recreate the moment without the pressure of sex looming above them.

Stan smiled slightly. "I just, I like someone else," he looked into Kyle's eyes and a dreamy haze drifted over his face.

"Oh." Kyle responded awkwardly. He let the subject drop. He hadn't told Kyle how he felt. The only safe assumption was that he felt nothing. Still, the rest of the night Stan pressed himself closer, laughed freely, and even tackled Kyle pinning him to the bed. His blue eyes shimmered playfully before he sat back up. Maybe he's just not ready; Kyle's heart floated with hope.

A/N: So If you liked this chapter, I will be writing a Style fic. I have the idea, it just needs to get started so I will announce it soon! Thank you for the support :)


	6. Down Among a Million Same

Butters' POV

Butters' father stopped him at the door as he snuck out early that morning. Kyle had sent him a frantic message shortly after Kenny left. He said that something had happened at Kenny's house and he was in the hospital. Butters' heart beat quickly as he quietly tiptoed down the stairs. He felt pulled to the boy's side. He needed to repay Kenny's kindness and comfort. He blushed at the thought of his strong arms around him. Maybe he had nothing to offer someone so resilient but, compulsively, he rushed to try. Until his father loomed above him at the door. He already had bruises. Bruises from the blur of the night before covered him along with another layer from his father's fists. They splotched his sides and down his back. "You're grounded mister!" His father shouted, blocking his way.

Butters shuddered at his father's anger. "But sir-"

"Don't - But Sir – me! You just march right back upstairs." His father's eyes gleamed on the edge of a smack, a punch, a kick. Butters clambered back up the stairs. He huddled in his room, crying softly. He waited until he heard nothing. The silence of the house comforted him and he wiped his eyes to pull himself together. He threw down his rope ladder and slinked down quietly. He knew what would await him later that night but Kenny needed him. And he needed Kenny, he realized. Fear gripped him as he imagined the boy's body frail and broken in a hospital bed. He ran towards the hospital until the bruises on his sides ached and his lungs heaved. The pain almost numbed as he neared the emergency room doors.

Butters' found Karen crying in the room that a nice nurse had directed him towards. She looked up to Butters with confusion. "I'm Butters." She simply stared. "I'm Kenny's fr-friend," He explained approaching her cautiously. "Who are you?" Butters knew very little about Kenny's family. The boys rarely visited his house and when they did, Kenny rushed them past the frenzy and shouting that inevitably greeted them. Butters understood. He rarely brought the boys to his home. He hated the thought of his friends seeing his father scold him. He feared they would notice the way he flinched and said "sir" with such weakness. Just another thing for them to tease him about, he thought.

"I'm Karen," the small girl sniffled, "I'm Kenny's sister." She gave him a slight smile. Butters walked to the bed where Kenny laid, his blonde hair plastered to his face in a mess of sweat. A bandage wrapped around his forehead with a dot of blood still seeping out. In the thin hospital gown, Kenny looked as vulnerable as Butters felt. Butters wanted to reach out and touch him but his hand trembled with fear as it neared Kenny's face. Instead, Butters sat in the chair beside the bed and pulled the orange hoodie onto his lap. He curled his legs up and buried his face into it. The sterile hospital fell away as he smelled Kenny's distinct smoky musk. Only hours before Kenny had held him this closely. He missed the rise and fall of the boy's chest filling the hoodie. He cried as he tried to forget that the boy beside him lay still as stone. Butters huddled there until he fell asleep.

Around five a.m. he gathered himself to grab coffee. He laid the hoodie out carefully and smiled at Karen who had fallen asleep. Her sweet face reminded him of her brother, innocence in repose. Her sleeves had rolled up in her sleep and he noticed bruises on her wrists. Whatever had happened in their home made Butters' own bruises ache. When he returned, Kenny was awake. His heart leaped and he rushed to the boy. He threw his arms around him violently, his fingers tangled in the sweaty hair at the base of his neck. Kenny relaxed into his embrace and Butters swelled with pride. He could take care of Kenny. He was sure of it.

Butters did all that he could for Kenny that day but the boy walked through the world like a ghost. Or maybe a poltergeist, Butters thought. He perceived a bristling fury building behind Kenny's eyes. He heard the whispers of his classmates. While the boys were waking to lunch they passed some kids in Karen's grade. They whispered, "Karen's got bruises and her parents are in jail again." Butters glared at the group and they went silent. Butters looked over to Kenny and saw his chest expand and his fists clench. He moved to the front of the group and tried to dispel the whisperers before Kenny reached them. Yet it seemed to Butters that everyone was talking about the events of the night before.

In the lunch room, tensions only grew. Butters sat across from Kenny. He wished he was sitting next to the other boy so he could squeeze his hand. Kenny's eyes grew wild as he listened to the banal conversation around them. Butters tuned out Eric who ranted about nothing as usual. "Yeah Kahl, well only faggy Jews still play Farmville! Everyone knows Candy Crush is the new thing!" He shouted.

Kyle rolled his eyes and said flatly, "Cartman, I don't give a fuck what's popular, just water my damn plants or leave me alone." His face darkened.

"Stan, tell Kahl I'm right! You know, you've been playing it!" Eric insisted. Butters couldn't stop looking towards Kenny even though he saw a fire burning brighter in his eyes with every glance. He wanted to tell the boy to breathe but he knew that drawing attention to the problem was like lighting a match.

"Cartman, it really isn't important dude," Stan responded. All the boys looked towards Kenny except for Butters. He looked away. His head began to ache from the lack of sleep.

"Oh Fuck Kenny!" shouted Eric. The whole lunch room stared at the group of friends now. Butters' heart began beating faster and faster. "He probably didn't even see anything because he was probably out fucking his fag boyfriend—" Kenny leaped across the table sprawling lunches everywhere. Butters' chest seized. He couldn't breathe. He had to get away.

Butters saw the blur of Kenny throwing himself onto Eric. The room spun as he ran into the hallway. He bumped into some students as he raced to the bathroom. His heart pounded, trying to rip itself from his chest. He noticed his body shaking roughly. He locked himself into a stall, shoved himself in the corner and pressed his head between his legs. He enjoyed the cold hard comfort of the wall cradling him. His heart began to slow and his breathing turned to sobs. He wiped away tears he hadn't known were falling from his eyes.

The door to the bathroom burst open unleashing a fury of sound from the hallway. "Fuck that fucking fag—" He heard Eric shouting and his stomach turned.

"Dude calm down, it's just Kenny being Kenny!" He heard Stan's calm voice beside Eric. Butters' shrunk himself further against the bathroom wall. His head spun again and he realized that even Stan knew what happened between him and Kenny. "It didn't mean anything," Stan reassured Eric. The words stung more than Butters anticipated. Of course it didn't mean anything, gee whiz you're so gullible, he thought as his face warmed.

"I just—I can't believe Kenny would screw me like that," Eric whispered. Butters' throat closed and he held back a yelp.

"Dude, what does this have to do with you?" Stan demanded.

"Butters is MY best friend!" Eric whined. Butters shook his head in confusion. Friends didn't order each other around. Friends didn't beat each other up. And yet, Eric had always been there for him. Eric had always included him. Maybe I'm missing something, Butters thought. The bell rang at that moment and the boys dispersed.

Butters sat in the bathroom for a while, struggling to understand the past few days. He closed his eyes and focused on the moment this all began. Kenny staring into the distance and smoking a cigarette. All of a sudden, the space between them closed. "this will have to do—" the words echoed in his ears like a siren. Butters realized now that Kenny hadn't intended to do the dirty work himself. The realization fell like an anvil through his chest straight down to his stomach. He turned to the toilet and dry heaved. He hadn't eaten since that day, he thought.

Still, his moments with Kenny shone through the grime and pain of the past few days like a hopeful ray. His head pounded when he tried to remember any of that dark night. He remembered Kenny's face near his own and a lot of alcohol drowning him in waves of nausea and then, a sharp searing pain. He assumed the pain had something to do with the bruises. Yet his brain blacked out with a tense jolt whenever he tried to reach past those vague blurs.

Then there was the night before. All night he had sat engulfed in the memory of Kenny's arms wild with fear over the thought of losing him. He felt wedged between desire and concern. Now he worried that he was the only one struggling with these feelings. He wondered why Kenny would come to his house and climb his ladder and hold him closely if he hadn't been propelled to his side like Butters had been propelled to his.

Butters shook his head to erase the thoughts. He gathered himself together and left the bathroom cautiously. He checked the hallway. It was silent as a mortuary during classes and he slipped down the hall to grab his things from his locker. He went home early knowing full well what awaited him there. Sure enough, as Butters walked through the door his father cornered him. The anger seeped from his eyes. "You have a lot of explaining to do mister," He yelled grabbing Butters roughly by the arm. Five more bruises, he thought. His exhaustion possessed him. He rose above his body and watched from the outside as his father shouted and pummeled him. He disappeared.

**A/N: I'm sorry this update took so long... I made a discovery... writing parallel POV chapters is REALLY hard... should be a bit more frequent from here on out. **


	7. As Long As They Don't Touch

Kenny spent the whole night building his courage which consisted of a flask of jack and a pack of cigarettes snagged from the 7-11. He stumbled, unsure of the hour, to Butters' house. He threw a rock at the window hoping to see Butters' joyous face. He relished the moments when his face shone with elation. Kenny relished it even more when he was the source of that excitement. Instead, a hollow face greeted him from the window. Kenny stood for what felt like forever staring up at him. He watched the confusion and hesitation play on Butters' face. Kenny sobered from the anxious wait and Butters' ghostly pallor. Something wrecked him, Kenny realized. He waved hesitantly and gestured that he could leave by pointing towards the street. Butters slowly shook his head. He returned with his ladder a moment later.

Butters' heart pounded as he lowered the ladder. He wasn't sure he wanted Kenny to see him like this. He wasn't sure he wanted to see Kenny at all after his recent realization that he had imagined their connection. Still, he needed his help. He heaved Kenny through the window wincing in pain. His bruises split through him painfully. He had come upstairs after his father's punishment and thrown up again. This time blood came up along with the empty bile filling his anxious stomach. He hissed and grabbed his side as Kenny settled onto the floor. He looked up to Butters with eyes full of concern and Butters felt a stab of pain from more than just his bruises. Still, there were more important things to tend to then his wounded heart.

Kenny stood quickly after he noticed Butters' rigid posture and wide eyes. "What's going on?" He asked urgently.

"I-I need your help," Butters admitted, a gnawing sensation overloading his stomach again. He held back the puke and pointed to his bed.

Kenny noticed the smell then. He knew the stench well from his own cat-infested home. The stinging tinge of urine scented the air. Butters looked down in shame. Without a word, Kenny rushed to the bed, stripped the covers, and took them into Butters' bathroom. "Is there any way you can get some cleaning products without waking up your parents?" He asked.

"S-sure," Butters replied uncertainly. He snuck down the hall and ducked into the laundry nook. Without turning on the light, he groped for some detergent, stain remover, and febreeze for good measure. He knocked a bottle of windex off the shelf in the process. He paused for a moment, heart pumping like a hummingbirds', until he was certain he heard nothing. He let out a sigh of relief and returned to his room with the supplies. Kenny had turned on a lamp in the bedroom in addition to the bathroom light. He silently took the stain remover and began to apply it to the mattress. "Could you hear that?" Butters asked him nervously.

Kenny looked up to him quizzically. "Hear what?" Butters didn't respond but smiled with relief. Kenny shrugged and went back to his work. Butters stood awkwardly rubbing his closed knuckles together. His tick only seemed to increase with age.

"Kenny," He started. Kenny looked up again. His eyes were full and present and sharp. "It seems-l-like you've done this before," he stuttered.

Kenny looked down and finished off the spot on the bed with a concentrated layer of febreeze. He contemplated telling Butters the truth, that Karen used to wet the bed on the nights their mother hit her. He intended to share his feelings with Butters during this visit but his protective instinct and a vague sense of dread held him back. "I spill bong water on my bed a lot," He concocted the lie effortlessly. He often did spill bong water on the bed but no one would give a shit. He felt a dark shadow of irrational jealousy. Butters' parents cared so much, even if they didn't show it properly. "Come into the bathroom and keep me company while I work on the sheets," He whispered, giving the boy a weak smile.

Butters sat on the toilet and watch as Kenny methodically spread out the sheet across the floor. He took a wet towel and heavily dampened the sheet. Butters watched with awe and admiration. His determined and hard face, his beautiful blues eyes sparkling with—what? He wasn't sure what and he pushed his projected desire to the back of his mind. Kenny tipped a small amount of detergent into the cap and spread it evenly across the stain. He took the towel and ran it in little circles over the damp sheet. Kenny smiled up at Butters and his stomach turned again. He suppressed his nausea but let out a harsh cough. Kenny's brow furrowed in concern. He paused and watched as Butters coughed into some toilet paper. He noticed a red tinge on the paper and stood quickly. Butters blushed and tried to throw away the tissue. Kenny grabbed his wrist and examined the paper. "Take off your shirt," Kenny demanded staring intensely into his eyes.

Butters blushed. His thoughts raced and he felt unsure of Kenny's intentions. Kenny waited only a moment before closing the distance between them and wrenching his shirt off. Butters inhaled sharply only to double over with a wretched cough that splattered droplets of blood. Kenny placed his hands on Butters' hips to steady him. His ran his hands over Butters examining his bruises. Almost his entire torso bloomed in purples and sickening green. His ribs were bright red and Kenny gently stroked the bruises watching as Butters' face contorted from the varying levels of pain. Kenny again rested his hands on Butters' hips where lightening bruises that looked suspiciously like finger marks lingered. Tears welled in the corner of Kenny's eyes. Butters' stood dumbstruck and shaking from pain and exposure and oddly, pleasure. He had never seen Kenny look so vulnerable. Kenny turned suddenly back to his work. He cast his eyes down and grumbled, "You should run an ice bath tomorrow." Butters stood lost in the ghostly memory of Kenny's hands on him and he shivered.

Kenny hung the clean sheet to dry and laid a towel out on the wet spot on Butters' bed. He put clean sheets on the bed as Butters stood by rocking on his heels. Kenny's silence unnerved him but he couldn't help staring at his strong sure hands. He never hesitated. He only acted. Butters simply stood like the spectator in his own life. Kenny whipped the comforter on the bed and sat down. He opened the covers and gestured for Butters to lie down. "Th-thanks," He blushed. He laid down facing Kenny. "I mean for everything," He stammered as Kenny tucked him in and smiled.

Kenny felt triumphant as he covered the finally smiling and relaxed boy. He restored the angelic glow to his… friend? Kenny shook the thought away. He snuck a swig from his flask and reminded himself why he was there in the first place. He sat facing away from Butters and muttered, "Maybe we should try to figure out what happened the other night." He heard Butters sigh and turned to see the boy's weary eyes begging him for respite.

Butters clasped his hand and tugged. "Lay down, please" He begged. Kenny looked surprised but lay down next to the boy. They faced each other, only inches apart. "I-" Butters started. Kenny's breath smelled of alcohol but he didn't care. His head spun as he wished the distance would disappear. Only a few inches felt like too much.

Kenny shifted uncomfortably. He felt so concerned but Butters seemed distracted from the events of the other night. His chest burned with the impulse to kiss him, hold him, and keep him safe in his arms. Still, something held him back. Whether it was the image of Cartman's shadow or the frail bruised torso he saw in the bathroom that hung there, Kenny felt unworthy to take advantage of Butters again. His stomach turned as he acknowledged his role as the catalyst of their tumble down the slippery slope of the past few days. "I am remembering more," Kenny admitted. He nervously struggled to find a place to put his hands between them. He settled for placing them on either side of Butters' shoulders.

Butters edged closer to Kenny until his face blurred and his hands brushed his shoulders. He closed his eyes waiting anxiously for Kenny's lips. He felt driven to prove Eric and Stan wrong but he wasn't sure how. He knew if Kenny wanted him, Kenny would have him and so he waited.

"Don't you want to know what I remember?" Kenny insisted. Butters shook his head slightly. He couldn't care about that with pain stabbing him all over. "I'm worried about you," Kenny whispered. He squeezed the boys' shoulder and his eyes snapped open.

Butters shook his head more vehemently and closed the sliver of space between them. He could act. He pressed his lips lightly onto Kenny's. He tensed, as he always did, but only for a moment. Then he gave into the soft slip of Butters' lips against his. Kenny lost himself for a moment, the buzz of booze blocking his thoughts. Then he remembered his promise to himself and broke away. He sat up quickly and rubbed his eyes. "Dammit!" He growled with frustration. "I'm trying to tell you something important."

Butters felt everything ache as Kenny pulled away. The string between them broke and he shied away from the pain. "Not right now?" Butters begged. Kenny looked over his shoulder to Butters exhausted face. He nodded and thought there I go again, hurting him with my selfishness. He moved to sit up but Butters stopped him. "Stay," he pleaded. His eyes shimmered on the edge of tears. Kenny drew himself back down onto the bed. Why would he stay? Butters asked himself. Kenny lay on top of the blanket. He needed the distance, the buffer. Still he slipped his arm lightly around Butters as they fell asleep.

Butters felt the thread repairing through the heat between them. But when he awoke, Kenny was gone.


	8. Bite the Hand That's Feeding

A/N: I'm sorry for the delayed update. I promise I haven't lost interest in the story or anything my life has just been crazy. Also, this chapter was a bit painful to write... Trigger Warnings: rape, abuse.

Butters' POV

Butters' head buzzed all day at school. Kenny was absent. He felt confused and exhausted. He looked around anxiously all day hoping that the boy would appear. Truly, he knew that his desire was pointless. Kenny found Butters, not the other way around. He sighed and picked at his food. "I notice Kinny isn't here today," Eric scoffed. He stole a look at Butters but Butters refused to respond. His listlessness expressed enough. Kyle and Stan simply rolled their eyes. Butters began to blush with the effort of holding back tears. He wasn't sure what brought the feelings out but lately they had possessed him in unexpected torrents. He looked towards Eric who had gone quiet for once. He gave Butters a small twisted smile. Butters threw back a strange look. "So you're still coming over later to help me with the next step in my plan right?" Eric asked. A devious smirk replaced his oddly chipper smile.

"Well, su-sure," Butters stammered. He had agreed to help Eric with his cell phone get rich quick scheme that afternoon. He didn't see any reason to sit around and dwell any more. Kenny had made it perfectly clear that Butters shouldn't wait around for him. Butters sighed. Somehow that clarity lacked any sense of comfort. "Huh?" Butters asked when he realized that Eric had been speaking to him as he lost himself in thoughts about Kenny.

"I SAID—are you going to bring that credit card number list you got offline?" Eric asked. His tone read business only but something lingered behind the words. It reminded Butters of the rough inflection in his voice the day before when he had marked Butters as his best friend.

"Credit card number list…" Kyle asked skeptically. Stan looked prepared for a fight between Kyle and Cartman with exasperation clouding his eyes. Butters saw the moment as an opportunity to tune out the conversation.

"None of your god-damn business Kahl!" Eric warned.

"Well I hope you get arrested," Kyle said with his morally righteous undertone. Butters' mind started to turn blurry as their yelling became more intense. He wanted to tell them all to shut the hell up. He hadn't felt so angry since his hapa noa. Thinking about that ceremony only made him think of the stupid boy in the orange hoodie more, the boy who had as much going for him as Ben Affleck.

"Look Jew, don't lecture me about conning people, you fucking sheister!" Eric shouted.

Butters slammed his fist on the lunch table suddenly. "Shut the FUCK up!" Butters shouted. He looked down to see his fists shaking. He wasn't sure if anger or fear drove him to the outburst but tears had balled at the corners of his eyes. "I'm tired of everyone fighting dammit!" He continued. He glared at the dumbstruck boys.

Eric glared in his direction. "Just because Kenny—"

Butters cut him off, "Don't—mention his name!" Butters snapped. "I'll see you later," He said exasperatedly before storming out of the cafeteria and throwing away his full lunch tray. He hadn't eaten in almost four days but the thought of food made him sick.

Butters felt exhausted by the end of classes. Lethargy seeped into his body and mind. Still, he dragged himself to Eric's house. He had made a promise after all. Eric looked both shocked and pleased to see Butters. His cheery mood lifted Butters' slightly as well. "I brought the l-list," Butters said uneasily. He gave Eric an apologetic smile and handed him the list. "So what else do you need me to do?" Butters asked. He sat behind the desk he usually managed in Eric's room and looked at him expectantly. Throwing himself into this work might be just what he needed, he told himself.

Eric rifled through the list with an appraising look on his face. "Very good Butters," he praised him lightly. Butters smiled. He liked it when Eric approved of him or his work. "Now," Eric started. "I needed you to keep making calls BUT something strange has happened," He said dramatically. Butters' eyes widened. They could never seem to make it through a plot without something going wrong.

"Oh hamburgers!" Butters exclaimed. "Wh-what is it this time?" He asked nervously.

Eric came over to the desk. He leaned over Butters as he opened the computer database that they had been using to keep track of the names and numbers. Butters' heart sped and his eyes began to blur like they had earlier at lunch. Eric hovered closely and Butters held his breath anxiously although he wasn't sure why. "BUTTERS! Are you listening?!" Eric shouted.

Butters jumped back to the moment with his heart beating a million miles an hour and his hands shaking, "Y-yes sir," He responded instinctively. Only afterwards did he recognize how strange it was to call his friend that. That title was reserved for his father, usually before a beating.

Eric gave him a look of surprise tinted with sick satisfaction. He didn't comment on Butters' slip up, he just re-explained the situation. "So the numbers are replicating-on their own-" Eric said with awe in his voice. "We're making-hundreds-of extra dollars this way," he revealed dramatically.

Butters' eyes widened in shock, "W-well what does that mean?" He asked.

"It MEANS Butters," he began condescendingly, "that we don't have to make any more calls and we'll STILL make more money!" Eric chuckled like he had rigged the system.

Butters smiled with relief. "O-oh, so I can go?" he suggested moving to stand.

Eric looked down at his hands somewhat nervously. "W-well Butters," He stammered. Butters furrowed his brow in confusion. Eric never wavered or got nervous. "There's—something else I wanted to talk to you about," Eric murmured.

Butters sat on the bed next to Eric and put his arm around him comfortingly. "W-what is it?" He asked.

Eric gathered his breath and sighed, "IlikeyouButters," his words all strung together incoherently.

Butters' eyes widened. "What?" He gasped. He shook his head without understanding.

"I—like—you—Butters," Eric repeated slower. Butters blushed and looked down at his hands. He wasn't sure how he felt about Eric's confession. He'd never thought of Eric that way. Really, Butters never thought about anyone that way until Kenny.

"W-well, gee Eric," He stuttered. He sat there dumbstruck not sure what to say. He felt tempted to reveal that he had overheard his conversation with Stan the day before but he didn't want to make the boy uncomfortable. Eric hovered towards him, taking his silence for consent. He kissed Butters roughly. He didn't kiss at all like Kenny, gentle and skilled.

"You're my boyfriend," Eric declared, his forehead still pressed to Butters'. For his part, Butters sat frozen. His body shook again and wasn't sure if it was a result of desire or fear. Butters knew he didn't want to stop Eric but… Kenny. The thought slapped him out of nowhere. He doesn't care, Butters reminded himself.

Butters scooted up against Eric and kissed him back hesitantly. His lips were dry and uninviting and he tasted like cheesy poofs and bad breath. Butters' stomach turned but he pressed forward. He wrapped his arms around Eric's neck.

Eric froze and snapped Butters' arms back down to his sides. He held his hands to keep them there and moved forward to press his lips hard against Butters'. He pushed Butters' down on the bed and held him by his shoulders. Butters cried out in pain as his fingers dug in aggressively. "Yes, you like it," Eric mumbled. He lay down on top of Butters. Butters struggled to breath and he felt a pain building in his chest. He tried to move his head away and press Eric off of him but he couldn't fight the boy's girth.

"C-could we slow down?" Butters asked nervously. He couldn't risk saying anything more assertive. He couldn't reject the only person who'd every truly wanted him. Eric sighed and sat up.

"Would some liquid courage help?" He offered bringing out the flask from the other night. Butters' stomach turned violently as Eric opened the bottle, took a swig, and waved the whiskey in front of his nose. The smell triggered something inside of him and he held back vomit as his face turned bright green. "Whatever, you pussy," Eric hissed. He emptied the rest of the flask in one gulp. Butters' body locked as Eric wrapped an arm around him and he came in for another kiss.

"I-" But Eric pressed himself on the boy before he could speak another word of protest. Butters' eyes blurred as Eric's girth, his alcoholic breath and his oppressive sweaty scent closed in on him. He closed his eyes in the hopes that that would help calm his nerves. He cares about you, he hold himself. Butters still felt his head spinning even with his eyes closed. He felt Eric pressing his shirt up and kissing and biting his chest. He nipped roughly and Butters held his breath, glad that Eric's mouth wasn't covering his own anymore.

Eric moved to take off Butters' pants. The boy was shaking and wasn't erect. Eric glared up at him. "You aren't enjoying this?" He growled. He yanked on his dick roughly and Butters let out a cry. "Yes you do like it," Cartman purred again. As Cartman pulled violently again, Butters' hand shot out and hit Eric in the face. He let out a terrified scream as Eric glared up at him. "What the FUCK Butters?" He shouted.

Butters cowered with his arms in front of his face. Eric pulled his own pants off and wrenched Butters onto his stomach. Butters' breath heaved as Eric pressed him into the bed. He tried to scream but his voice was muffled in the blankets. His heart beat in his ears as he felt Eric fall on him, a pain shooting up his back. Butters' eyes rolled back in his head and everything turned black.

Butters awoke in the darkness; cold, shivering, and aching all over. Eric was wrapped around him. He tried to push the boy off of him without waking him but it was to no avail. Butters' lay wide-eyed in shock and fear until the light of morning streaked through the windows.


End file.
